by: Syed Majid Gilani
With the reality of his having gone away from this world, still to sink in fully despite the passage of twenty-three years, I would like to share a glimpse into his heavenly abode. My father was born in 1950 in Khanquahi, Mohalla, Srinagar, and graduated in Electronics from S P College, Srinagar in 1972. After being selected by the Services Selection Board, he joined the Sales Tax Department and served in the ministerial Cadre. Unfortunately, fate had other plans, and he left this world while still in service in the prime of his youth.
Growing up under my beloved father’s able guidance and affectionate care, each passing day further magnifies his significance in my life. Today, as I reminisce about the golden memories we shared, my emotions overflow with bittersweet nostalgia. From his birth in 1950 until his departure in 2001, my father lived a life full of wisdom, compassion, and dedication. He touched our lives with his care, discipline, politeness, laughter, unwavering strength, and unconditional love. His legacy continues to shape us all.
It was on the 11th of June,2001 when my father returned home from his office complaining of slight breathlessness. He had been sweating a lot and had ever consumed some seven glasses of water in the office which was unusual for him. Despite his breathlessness, he offered Maghreb prayers at home and continued to praise the Almighty Allah. On that evening, I returned home from Banihal, a hilly place on the Jammu Srinagar National Highway. Just two days after my transfer to Banihal Toll Post, I experienced several health issues, including irregular heartbeats, poor appetite, and sleeplessness. Tears would uncontrollably roll down my eyes. Unable to bear it any longer, I immediately returned to Srinagar. When I arrived home at 8.30 p.m. I found my loving father in the kitchen offering on his prayer mat. Tears welled up in our eyes, and asked my father who had been in good health when I left for Banihal, to get up and hug me tightly.
Receiving his warm embrace brought me immense relief. He then offered his Isha prayers. After completing his prayers, my father would usually go to his own father’s bedroom and arrange their bedding. He never allowed anyone else to do this task as he believed that it was his duty to take care of his parents. Later that evening, our entire family gathered around the same ‘dastakhan’ for dinner. However, my father’s breathlessness worsened after the meal. In a panic, I called my maternal uncles the Chishti’s who arrived, and, took my father to the SKIMS Hospital, Soura. Although the ECG test came back normal there seemed to be no apparent problem. He was only given a diazepam injection. Little did we know that this would be our last moment with him.
On our way back home from the hospital, my father spoke to us normally, but I noticed he was experiencing breathlessness. When we arrived home, he tried to sleep but could not, instead in a subconscious or sleepy state, he began reciting Surah. At around 4. am. my father loudly recited Surah Falaq. This made us afraid but no one could even think of his death. We assumed he was uttering these words while under the influence of a ‘Diazepam’ injection. My loving father then instructed me, ‘Majid go and light the candles and call the tailor.’ After then, he began reciting the kalimaat and repeatedly told us, to be prepared because dawn was approaching. However, we did not understand what he meant. In an attempt to provide comfort, we gave him tea. Following that, he went to the washroom and took a bath, changing his clothes afterward. But as soon as he came from the washroom, his complexion color began to pale and his voice became weak. We helped him to sit on a mattress in the living room, the same spot where he used to offer his prayers and recite the Quran.
These are moments I experienced, where my father, despite his breathlessness found solace in reciting verses from the Holy Quran and offering Zikr Azkaar. He held my younger sister Yasmeen’s right hand in his right hand and our youngest sister Sabiya’s left hand in his left hand, gripping them firmly with a heartfelt core/he repeatedly said “Allah, Allah, Allah……. We witnessed this scene exactly as I described, but unfortunately, we could not comprehend its meaning. In this solemn moment, we could only hold his hand tightly seeking solace in each other and in the presence of Allah. Amid our sorrow, as tears down our faces, I began to rub my father’s feet hoping to bring him comfort in his final moments. Our neighbors, the Shah’s rushed to our help. They insisted on taking our dear papa to SKIMS Soura in the hope that he could be saved. Yasmeen and I attempted to carry our father on our shoulders to the waiting car outside, but within the confines of the room, something changed. My papa’s eyes gazed lovingly at the Horizon as if he could see something beyond our reach. Desperate to bring him back, we tried to awaken him, but it was futile with a heavy heart, I gently closed his eyes, knowing that he had left us for his heavenly abode. In the early hours of Tuesday, June 12 th 2001, an incredible soul, my dear papa’s my lifelong friend and companion, departed from this world at the tender age of fifty. The pain of his loss still haunts me, and I long for the day when we will be reunited in the heavens. My wounds are raw and my heart brimming with tears. In the end, my beloved father left us too soon leaving behind a legacy of love and devotion. His earthly journey may have ended, but his memory and spirit continue to guide and inspire us.
Amidst the darkness, there was one guiding light that upheld our spirits our beloved pious, disciplined, and learned mother. Despite losing her life partner at the young age of forty-two, she remained steadfast and unwavering in raising us according to the values of our family. She ensured that we followed in the footsteps of our ancestors, nurturing our identity and keeping us connected with our paternal relatives. Our mother’s compassion and warmth knew no bounds, bridging the gap and preventing us from ever feeling isolated.
We are eternally grateful for our mother’s love and kindness. Moreover, Almighty Allah was kind enough to us, for he never deprived us of the support, care, affection, and tutelage of our God-fearing grandparents Magfoor o Marhoom Syed Abdul Rashid Gilani and Jannat Makeen Syeda Sakina Gilanii. They raised us with nobility and discipline, treating our grief-stricken mother Shahida Chishti, as their daughter, not just their daughter-in-law.
Everything we are today we solely owe to them. Our grandparents were very great. It was they, who brought us up and stood like a rock behind us. They took our utmost care, just like our papa could have taken if he would have been alive. They never ade us feel that we were orphans. They made me and my siblings complete their education and made it a point to see us well settled. May `Allah elevate their status in the heavens alongside our beloved father.
Author is a GST Inspector. He can be mailed at syedmajid6676@gmail.com
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